


For My Sister

by Thatsarcasticidiot



Category: GOT7
Genre: Angst, I can't write happy stuff, K I'm Done Now, M/M, Markipooh really loves his sister, People die in this, Sorry guys, Zombie Apocalypse, af, apocalypse au, but don't worry, but we all know he's married to Jb, got7 survive, its cute, k I'm spoiling now, whats wrong with me, youngjae is straight in this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2019-03-20 10:54:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13716180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thatsarcasticidiot/pseuds/Thatsarcasticidiot
Summary: It's the end of the world and Mark just has to make sure his sister makes it to the bitter end. She's his top priority.





	For My Sister

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all, new story whoop. Guys I don't know what's wrong with me, I don't know how to write happy stories help
> 
> #SAVETHATSARCASTICIDIOT2K18

Mark is startled awake, awoken by his sister roughly shaking him awake, her loud cries punctuated with timely whimpers. Opening his eyes slightly, Mark could instantly spot the terror on his sisters face; a layer of cold sweat glistening against her skin. 

The distress she was showing was enough to make Mark sit up abruptly in his bed, placing his palm on her forehead in an attempt to check for any sort of illness. 

In a sharp movement, she brushed his hand from her face, shaking her head violently.

"I'm not sick!" She whisper-shouted, a sense of urgency lacing her words.

Even the sound of her own voice seemed to unsettle her further so Mark refrained from sounding too scared when asking what was wrong.

"D-do you hear that?" Mali looked around as she said that, as if she was checking if anyone else was in the room. 

Mark listened closely, only now noticing the banging sound coming from the front room. He threw his legs off the side of the bed, now even more alert.

Mark instantly began to try and come out with possible people that could be creating the commotion,

"Mom and dad aren't supposed to be back yet..." He trails off.

Their parents were often on business trips, even after moving to Korea, barely giving themselves time to settle in before giving all of it away to work. Mark didn't exactly know all the details of their move, but was aware that it was involved with his parents work.

It couldn't be any of Mark's friends since he hasn't been given enough time to make any close ones, and that takes quite the amount of time for him, due to his shy nature.

"Then who is it?" Mali prompts, bringing him out of his thoughts.

Mark had no clue; so he answered honestly.  
"I don't know."

Now standing upright, Mark moved towards the door of his room, investigating the source of the mysterious noise. With a shaking hand, he pulled the door open, listening for the relentless banging of whatever was out there.

Mark was fully aware of the danger that awaiting to happen with the given situation, so he opts for heading towards the kitchen, in order to find some sort of weapon to defend himself. He walked toward the room of interest, horribly aware of every step he made on his path down the stairs.

Once there, he scanned the room, looking for a weapon. He grabbed the most obvious one, a knife, just in case the worst were to happen. Mali, positively shaking now, trailed behind Mark, occasionally grabbing his hand whenever she got too spooked.

Mark looked towards the old grandfather clock in the hallway, given to his family by an old family friend, back in the states. '3:47'; the clock read. Who on earth would be trying to get their attention in such an obnoxious way at such an obnoxious time, Mark thought.

If he wasn't mistaken, he could hear faint groaning from the person omitting the pounding. Finally entering the living room, his eyes were instantly drawn to the long panes of glass, forming a long window across the stretch of wall.

His sister let out a loud whimper, clearly fearing for Mark's safety as he stalked towards the curtain covering the window. With one sharp movement, he drew the curtain back, revealing a grotesque picture. 

He immediately jumped back at the sight before him; it was a human, some sort of mindless corpse, repeatedly throwing itself at the window, leaving trails of blood dripping down the glass in its wake.

It's dislocated jaw was open, snake like appendages spilling from it, adding to Mark's disgust. It's clothes had splatters of red streaked across them; the blood of its victims.

Mark had already seen enough; he rushed to cover Mali's eyes, catching sight of another one, this one walking with a terrible limp, if you could even label it as it walking.

When Mark locked eyes with the corpse, it paused its motions, only to resume seconds later, banging with a newfound purpose, growling even louder. To say Mark was disgusted would be an understatement, his entire body filling with revolt, fear and the determination to protect his sister.

Due to the corpse's sudden increase in volume, it had successfully managed to catch the attention of the other, the second one instantly perking up at the sight of humans.

His sister crying hysterically, clawing at his hands desperately, kicked him into action, yelling at his sister to go to her room; to lock the door behind her and call the police.

She wasted no time escaping the room, and Mark waited until he hears the click of the door locking, only then did he know she was safe.

Mark knew how fragile the windows are and deduced that leaving the creatures to continue their pounding would not only cause the window to break, but the noise would attract many more and the easy access would lead to their eventual demise.

And that's something he wants to avoid for a long time.

All the other scenarios Mark had planned in his head also ended similarly, leaving him no choice but getting rid of them himself, however reluctant he was.

He could only hope for success.

Walking feverishly to the front door that was next the window in question, he raised his knife in a defensive manner hoping that he did not have to use any violence. His hopes are quickly crushed however when he opens the heavy door, the creature instantly lunging for him.

A putrid smell attacked him, forcing itself in his nostrils and attaching itself to Mark's memory. The smell reminded him terribly of rotting meat, and he wondered if that was happening beneath the clothes that did so little to cover the mutilated corpse.

Up close, Mark could see all the damage that had been done to the corpses. Their hair was matted and their mouths were filled with blood, spilling everywhere every time they opened their mouths.

His wish for a peaceful approach was left in the dust, as he raised his knife further, bringing it down forcefully on the creatures head, just before it grabbed him. However, it seemed that what would take out any normal person immediately, didn't have much effect on the creatures, as it didn't go down, barely flinching.

Mark hacked at it once more, using more power than before, the bread knife finally going clean through, a horrible squelching sound punctuating the action. It collapses like a dead weight on the floor, shivering a total of three times, before laying there motionless. Dead.

A feeling bubbled up inside of Mark, overflowing as a tear escaped, cascading down his cheek at the shock of killing something, at the shock of taking a life.

However his time to revel is limited, as the other one, who Mark had forgotten completely about, flung itself at Mark, knocking him over with great force. It pulled tightly on Mark's hair and made an effort to bite him, baring its teeth, and it's now, when Mark realises that one, he is capital F, fucked and two, that he is dealing with zombies.

Zombies. So getting bitten is probably not in his best interests.

However, yet again, Mark's realisation time is limited since the creature above him starts growling aggressively. This triggers Mark to feel the urge to scream loudly, but, due to his slight knowledge about the undead, he felt as if that wouldn't be a good idea, so he bites harshly on his tongue to prevent any sound escaping.

The metallic taste of blood served as a reminder that he should be battling the creature above him, and thus, he flung the knife into the shoulder of the corpse, flipping it over once it's distracted. He took a moment to breathe, before driving the blade through the skull of the creature, choosing to leaving it there, instead of retrieving it and having the blood stained silver constantly remind him of that fateful day.

He quickly collected himself, and rushed back into the house, bolting and locking the door, hoping that he was safe for now. Once inside, he switched off the light, sensing that the lights being on had something to do with the sudden attack.

In the midst of all the panic, a thought popped into his head.

Mali.

Rushing out of the front room, he reached the stairs, climbing them so quickly that it almost seemed as if he were drunk. He navigated through the house before reaching her room, trying the door handle, the rattle of the locked door nob luring a gasp from inside.

"Mali? Mali, come on, it's me." Mark spoke in the calmest voice he could muster, trying to battle the fear attempting to seep into his voice.

He heard slight shuffling, before the lock clicked, however he chose to wait a little, instead of tumbling in, hysteric, and arising more panic in his eight year old sister.

He could instantly feel his heart being crushed, as he pushed open the door, and was met with the sight of his sister, crouched on the floor with her hands clutching her head, in a state of hysteria.

Mark walked forwards, pulling her into his embrace, rocking her back and forth.

-

"Mark?" He hums in response, "Wha-what were they? I head them, they sounded horrible." Her voice quivered noticeably, from fear, from confusion.

Mark sighed deeply, wanting to answer her honestly, but not wanting to scare her into crying again; she had only stopped ten minutes ago.

"I- I don't know Mali, but don't worry, okay?" He turned her to face him by placing his hand under her chin.  
"I'll deal with it."

"Mark?" She repeated, her voice cracking that time, "what about- what about mom... and dad?"

She voiced the worries Mark had been trying so hard to push to the back of his his mind, once the words had been said, everything that Mark had done to stop himself asking the same question was unravelled, like that loose string you can't help pulling.

"Look Mali," I put my hands on either side of her face, "I'm sure they're fine... I'm sure."

He's sure. He's sure. He hopes.

They sat in the dark listening out for anything alarming for what seemed like hours, relaxed, until Mark heard faint snores coming from his sister, finally peaceful.

That lucky little thing.

If Mark knew one thing for sure, it's that he wasn't getting any sleep that night. He gently set his younger sister on her bed, tucking her in, and with that, Mark realised that he might only have her. That his parents may not walk through that door, today, tomorrow, or ever.

And he's just got to accept that, for the sake of his sister.

-

Settling in the front room, where everything initially took place, he flicked through the channels on his TV, turning it to a very low volume, ears straining to hear it. Getting to the news, he noticed that the breaking news tab was flashing across the bottom of the screen, pictures of ruined cities flashing on screen making Mark gasp in shock, how quickly had this happened?

The reported talked hurriedly about the outbreak and advised people to stay in their houses and to avoid too much unnecessary contact with people until further information was available. There were also the bullshit interviews with various respected persons in the government, all reassuring the people of Korea that they will be fine. 

It made Mark wonder why he was attacked so viciously earlier if they were so 'safe'.

Marks last hopes of escape were diminished when it was revealed that all flights to and from Korea were cancelled, all ports were shut down, and that the last flight was to escort the president. So basically, Mark sums up, nothing is being done to save the country and from the looks of it, the infection will just keep spreading.

Amazing.

It was just yesterday, Mark thought, that he was out doing grocery shopping for himself and his sister, waving at the kind old lady that lived on his street. It was just yesterday that he took her to the park, the sun shining bright golden rays on their faces, no one predicting anything of this sort occurring just the next day.

He changes the channel to some cartoons, savouring them, taking in every detail, as they are cutting all lines apart from the news tomorrow night. He watched all the shows that he used to watch with his sister, before she could even talk, right up to the shows that they watched now, over breakfast.

And yet again, he was pulled out of his thoughts by frantic knocking at the door, the sound reverberating throughout the entire first floor. He jumped back, cowering in his seat away from the noise, fearing the worst.

What if it's another one? Mark doesn't think he can take another one out. He stops and just listens; the pounds this time differ from the slow, sluggish blows, but are hurried... panicked. He feels himself start to panic, but calms himself down with the thought of his sister and her safety.

With a now clear mind, he decided, similar to before, that letting it continue would just attract attention that he doesn't need so he grabbed a lampshade near him, preparing himself for combat yet again.

Mark's not sure when he started shaking, but he couldn't help but notice the tremor in his own hand as he reached to unbolt the door.

"Is anyone there?"

He jumped for the nth time that night, backing away. Zombies don't talk... at least Mark doesn't think they do.

But this...

This was definitely human, and it sounded as if there's more than one of them.


End file.
